


Cardiovascular

by TheGirlFromINVISIBLE



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6029335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlFromINVISIBLE/pseuds/TheGirlFromINVISIBLE
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now Jarvis ships it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quickly written as I wanted to explore the reason for Daniel's disheveled appearance in the clip for 2x06 before the episode aired. This fic was also partially inspired by the scene in "Pretty In Pink" in which Duckie shares a juice box with Andie's dad.

Pulling Peggy’s bedroom door closed behind him, Edwin Jarvis paused and shook himself in an attempt to cork the upward trajectory of a bubbling sob of emotion. Jarvis was not one for displaying his feelings – he was British, after all – but the events of the day, or, rather, the events of the evening, had shaken him to his very core. Not only had he succeeded in liberating two atomic bombs, which, if not handled in the most, delicate, gentle exacting way, could have instantly vaporized the whole of Los Angeles, but, as terrifying as that had been, it was a far second to finding his dear friend grievously injured and impaled on rebar -- not to mention the panicked, sickening, helpless feeling of the rush to free her and find suitable medical attention as the lifeblood poured from her. It had only been through the efforts and quick-thinking of Daniel Sousa and himself that she was, at this moment, lying on the other side of the door, in pain, but alive. After all that he and Miss Carter had been through together, tonight’s experience brought home – literally -- the fact that their adventures were not, in fact, a game… and could potentially have very real and profound life and death implications with which he was not at all prepared to deal. 

Jarvis rubbed his eyes tiredly and walked slowly down the hallway towards the Stark mansion’s living room. Like all other nights, he would close up the house and then off to bed, but, tonight, unlike most other nights, he stopped at Howard Stark’s whiskey decanter, poured himself half a rocks glass of the beverage, and downed it in one gulp. As he stood contemplating another, a knock sounded at the door.

Jarvis instantly felt the knife of adrenalin in his stomach, fearful that Whitney Frost and/or her affiliates had arrived to finish the job of killing Miss Carter. He tiptoed to a window offering a view of the front door and peeked through the curtains. 

It wasn’t Whitney Frost, or any of her crew.

It was one very disheveled-looking Daniel Sousa. 

“Chief Sousa!” Jarvis exclaimed as he swung the door open and looked nervously around the darkness, “Is everything all right? Are they coming back for Miss Carter?”

“No, Jarvis,” Daniel answered wearily.

“Oh, thank god,” Jarvis sighed in relief, as his hand shot to his forehead. “I’m afraid Miss Carter is rather a sitting duck in her current state.”

Daniel nodded. “Can I come in?” 

“Certainly, sir,” Jarvis replied, stepping back to allow Daniel entrance.

In the light of the foyer, Jarvis got a better view of Daniel and almost gasped at the last hour’s drastic transformation. Whereas before, Daniel was merely frantic and frazzled, now, he was absolutely wrecked. His clothes, still spotted with Peggy’s blood, sat at odd angles, while his normally impeccably-combed, slicked-back hair fell across his forehead and stuck out in odd points all around his head. With both of his hands rammed deep into the outer pockets of his sport coat, an aura of fragility and vulnerability encircled him.

Still, Jarvis wasn’t entirely surprised when the first questions out of Daniel’s mouth were the whisper of a worried, “Where is Peggy? Is she ok?”

“Yes,” Jarvis answered quietly, “She’s resting in her room. I personally saw to it that she was comfortable and left with everything she may need. Did you want to see her?”

Daniel hesitated before shaking his head. “No… no,” he answered, “I-I don’t want to bother her… she needs to get her rest.” 

The two men stood uncomfortably regarding each other for a few moments, before Daniel spoke again. “I, uh, I didn’t get to say it earlier, Jarvis, but you did a great job tonight. With everything. We couldn’t have done it – any of it -- without you. Thank you.”

“Not at all, sir,” Jarvis replied modestly. “I am quite happy that I was there to offer my assistance.”

Daniel stared at the floor and replied glumly, “So am I.”

The men stood rooted in place, enveloped in an awkward silence. After several eternal moments, Jarvis finally spoke. “Tell me, Chief Sousa,” he began, walking over to the whiskey decanter, “Would you, per chance, like a drink? I could certainly do with one. And I might even admit to you that it will not be my first of the night.”

“That sounds…. really great, Jarvis,” Daniel sighed. “Thanks.”

Jarvis poured two drinks, handed one to Daniel, and motioned towards the couch. “Please, Chief Sousa, sit.”

Daniel took a seat, while Jarvis, too exhausted to continue standing on ceremony, collapsed into an opposite chair.

They remained quiet for a few more moments before Daniel, staring into his whiskey glass, said, “I guess you’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.”

Jarvis shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “The thought had crossed my mind. Especially if, as you say, we are not presently in danger and you do not wish to speak with Miss Carter.” Jarvis paused, and then continued delicately, “Might it have something to do with… your ‘special kind of worry’ for Miss Carter?”

Daniel looked at him in disbelief and then buried his hands in his head, as Jarvis continued to regard him quietly. 

“Everyone knows…,” Daniel groaned, “Everyone knows. Even *you* know…”

“Well,” Jarvis replied, matter-of-factly, “Miss Roberts mentioned something to the effect on the night of the Isodyne incident while you were, shall we say, unhappy with your filing cabinet.”

Daniel shook his head back and forth in denial, as if the longer and faster he shook it the more quickly and happily the awfulness of his current life situation would be resolved. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this… I-I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me, Chief Sousa,” Jarvis admitted. “Perhaps you should just discuss your feelings with Miss Carter?”

Daniel gulped back a substantial part of his drink and chuckled bitterly, “Except that I’m engaged. Or, at least, I was. Until tonight.”

A look of dawning comprehension spread across Jarvis’s face, “To the young lady tonight? The one who assisted Miss Carter?”

Daniel nodded.

“And she broke off your engagement because you brought Miss Carter there.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Almost,” Daniel replied, taking another drink and emptying his glass. “She broke off our engagement because she could see that I was in love with Peggy.” The words hung in the air between Daniel and Jarvis until Daniel looked at his hands and quietly added, “And when she called me on it, I couldn’t deny it.”

“I see,” Jarvis replied, in an even tone that held only a fractional, strangled squeak of scandalized glee. After a beat, he added, in the same voice, “One moment, please,” and Daniel watched as Jarvis stood, walked over to the whiskey decanter, brought it back to the coffee table, refilled both of their glasses, and took a swig of his own.

“I must apologize, sir,” Jarvis said, in his normal voice, as he settled back into his chair, “But it’s not readily apparent to me… if you are in love with Miss Carter, why were you engaged to the young woman tonight?”

Daniel groaned again and flopped back on the couch, running his hand through his already ruinous hair. “I was trying to make a fresh start, you know? Nothing was happening with Peggy, so I needed to move on with my life. Get her out of my system. And the best way I could think to do that… new job, new city… the whole other side of the country. It was working well, too. Really well… or, at least, I thought it was. Then Thompson sends Peggy out, and it’s… just like it was before. *Painful.*” Daniel clenched his teeth and his fists, “I wish… I wish I could just turn it off. I tried. I tried *so damn hard.* But… I can’t. I just can’t. And then… to see her almost die tonight…”

Jarvis watched for a few moments as Daniel’s body language continued to visually display the depth of his inner struggle. As he calmed, Daniel reached for his drink. 

“And that…, “ Jarvis replied kindly, “Is the problem with love. Of course,” he added, taking another drink and regarding Daniel carefully, “It’s only truly a problem if your love is not returned. Have you ever spoken with Miss Carter about the way you feel?”

Daniel sighed sadly. “The day after we wrapped up the Stark case – in New York -- I asked her out for drinks. She said she had plans. I just figured she didn’t want to deal with this-“ Daniel motioned towards his leg and crutch. “’No girl is going to want to trade in a red, white, and blue shield for an aluminum crutch,’ right? I have to respect that.”

Jarvis stilled. “Chief Sousa,” he gaped. “Do you mean to tell me that you accepted another position, relocated to the other side of the country, and asked another woman to marry you, all to escape feelings that you have been harbouring for Miss Carter… feelings that you believe she will not return *simply because of your leg*?”

Daniel, in the midst of raising his glass to his lips, stopped mid-air. He contemplated Jarvis’s words for a moment, returned the glass to the table, and moved both his hands back to his shaking head. “Wow, Jarvis. When you put it like that I sound like a real jackass, huh?”

Jarvis grimaced. “I can assure you, Chief Sousa, that was not the word I would have chosen. After all, I, too, am guilty of doing exceptionally stupid things in the name of love. You have no idea.” Jarvis rolled his eyes and took another sip of whisky. “But I’ve spent a great deal of time with Miss Carter, and I cannot at all imagine her rejecting the affections of a kind, decent, good man such as yourself because of a leg injury. Especially one that you incurred while fighting nobly.”

Daniel lowered his head in shame, both at the mess of his actions and his assumptions about Peggy.

“One more thing, sir,” Jarvis added, and Daniel again raised his gaze, “While I certainly cannot promise you that Miss Carter will return your affections – I presently have no insight into that one way or another -- I think you owe it to yourself and to her… not to mention to any other women with whom you may have a romantic relationship in the future… to find out if she does.”

Daniel nodded slowly in chagrined agreement.

Jarvis finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the coffee table. “Right, then,” he stretched as he stood, “May I turn down a bedroom for you, Chief Sousa? You’re welcome to stay the night. It’s dreadfully late.”

“Thanks, Jarvis,” Daniel answered, still seated on the couch, “But I don’t want to put you out any further. If it’s all right by you, I’ll just stay here on the couch. I can keep an eye on the front door.”

Jarvis nodded in kind understanding and left the room. When he returned minutes later with a pillow and several blankets, he found Daniel asleep, in the fetal position, facing the door. Jarvis wondered for a minute or two about whether he should wake Daniel – he hadn’t even removed his leg – but, after considering the events of the day and Daniel’s admissions, Jarvis decided that, Daniel, too, needed his rest. Jarvis opened a blanket and gently draped it across Daniel’s sleeping form and turned out the light.


	2. Chapter 2

At 7:30am on the dot, Jarvis flung open the door to Peggy’s bedroom, and, carrying a tray full bacon, eggs, toast, fruit, orange juice and coffee, he breezed loudly and brightly into the room with exclamations of “Morning! Morning! Morning!” and “Wakey, wakey, Miss Carter!”

Peggy groaned groggily, yawned, and rubbed her sleepy eyes until she was able to open them and focus on Jarvis. Seeing the tray, she moved to sit up, only to immediately grab her side and yelp in pain.

“Miss Carter!” Jarvis yelled as he desperately looked around for a place to sit the tray. By sliding her red sunglasses, lipstick, and a few other sundry items to the side, he cleared enough space for the tray on her dresser top before rushing to her bedside.... where Peggy, with her shirt up, was examining her wound closely. 

“Are you all right?” he asked worriedly from his seat next to her on the edge of the bed. 

“I believe so,” she replied, after a pause and with an apparent amount of discomfort in her voice, as she replaced her shirt. “I don’t appear to have torn open any stitches. You merely caught me in that blissful first moment of the morning in which I had forgotten the events of last night.”

“I do apologize, Miss Carter,” Jarvis replied guiltily as Peggy, slowly and gently pulled herself into a sitting position. “Tomorrow I shall endeavor to subdue my entrance to allow you better mastery over your bearings.”

Peggy grimaced in pain. “Mr. Jarvis, please stop apologizing and bring me that delightful bacon I smell.”

“Yes, Miss Carter.” With that, Jarvis retrieved the tray of food from the dresser, brought it to the bed, and positioned it so that it sat over her upper legs.

“Is there anything else that I may bring you?” he asked as he watched her devour a heaping fork full of scrambled eggs, only to have a cluster of eggs fall out of her mouth and onto the tray.

Embarrassed, Peggy dabbed at her mouth with the cloth napkin. “Forgive me, Mr. Jarvis. I’m utterly ravenous this morning, I’m afraid. But this should be ample food, thank you.”

“Excellent,” Jarvis smiled as he turned and moved towards the door. “Please do call for me if I may bring you anything else.”

Surprise shot across Peggy’s face “Where are you going?”

With his hand on the doorknob, Jarvis replied nonchalantly, “I must attend to Chief Sousa’s breakfast.”

“Chief Sousa’s breakfast?” Peggy echoed in confusion through a mouthful of food, before swallowing and adding, “What do you mean?”

In his same blasé tone, Jarvis explained, “Chief Sousa arrived after I left you last night. He spent the night on Mr. Stark’s couch.”

“What?” Peggy dropped her fork. “Why? Was Whitney Frost coming for us?”

Jarvis waived his hand with a mixture of feigned boredom and impatience. “That was my first thought, as well, but, as it turns out, his fiancée broke off their engagement. I think the poor chap just needed to be amongst friends. Now,” he paused as he opened the bedroom door, “if you’ll excuse me… Chief Sousa has probably already been awoken by the maid, and I don’t have his breakfast ready.”

Jarvis noted Peggy’s shocked, wide-eyed, and not particularly unhappy expression. As he exited the room and pulled the door shut behind him, the right side of his mouth twitched upwards into a sly smile.


End file.
